As we stood lost in almost speechless admiration, and without the slightest warning of treasure yet in store, the white beam was stabbed by a narrow, gleaming shaft of yellow sunlight.  The glorious, radiant beauty of the picture presented is utterly indescribable, but it was of short duration, and in a few seconds the golden blade was withdrawn as suddenly as it had appeared.

If the genius of Elkins had been granted the privilege we enjoyed, the artist-world of Europe that graciously yielded the highest honor to his “Sunbeam on Mount Shasta,” would have knelt in rapturous humility.  Speaking of his great work, as we stood before it only a few months before his death, Mr. Elkins said quietly:  “It is no great achievement; I simply painted it exactly as it looked.  Anyone could do the same.”  But no one ever has.

The white beam was more enduring and by its aid we were able to view the expanse of the great Auditorium far better than could have been done in the momentary glare of any brilliant artificial light.  Every part of the cloud-gray walls shows a stratification as regularly horizontal as if the laying of each course had been done with the assistance of line and level; while in every direction are now seen hundreds of stalactites that had not been noticed before, and although they look small, the average length, taken with the surveying instruments, is fourteen feet.  The Hill beneath the entrance is an accumulation of debris, drifted in from the outside, and rising to a height of more than one hundred and twenty-five feet; while the great circumference of its supporting base, revealed by the banishment of shadows, suggests the possibility of tragic history of which the only evidence lies buried there and may or may not ever be discovered; but let us step lightly, since our feet may press the covering that shields a final sleep; and also let a grieving sister in her old age take comfort in the knowledge that here, as in few other spots, nature provides a certain and gentle burial for the unfortunate, and for a few seconds each day lights the dim chamber with a heavenly glory—­perhaps in appeal to the sons of one country to harbor no such feelings as deprived Abel of life and for all time and eternity tarnished the honor of Cain.

[Illustration:  Entrance to Cave—­Interior View.  Page 52.]

The chilliness presently recalled us from further indulgence in that great scene, to ordinary affairs; and consulting the reliable thermometer, it was found to register 42 deg., while in some of the lower passages the temperature is 58 deg.; but the variation is not in accordance with the accepted theory of one degree to the one hundred feet descent.

A return to the beautiful Spring of Youth Room was now a necessity, but we were careful to allow no drop of water falling from clay-stained hands to reach the purity of that lovely bowl, and then being happy and hungry, we retired to the piano’s protecting tent for refreshment.